


House Party

by ecto_zone



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, F/F, M/M, They're all big gays, What is Pacing, completely platonic sober interractions, some vague sansgore shipping that I didn't thresh out at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 19:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15031928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecto_zone/pseuds/ecto_zone
Summary: Undyne is having some friends over, and they're gonna have a party.





	House Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iqom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iqom/gifts).



> [NOTE: This is somewhat of a continuation of a work I did for the raffle, that overall I'm not really happy with. The important info to get out of that, which is relevant to this fic, is that Mettaton, Sans, and Papyrus went stargazing after they left the Underground.]

“I thought you said you were just having a friend over,” Mettaton protested. “If I knew you were going to invite half the Underground I would’ve bought something better to wear!”

Undyne rolled her eye. “It’s not half the Underground, ‘ya diva, just some friends of mine that might as well be family! Well, most of ‘em.” She scratched the back of her neck. “I don’t really know much about Sans.”

Mettaton perked up at the mention of the skeleton’s name. He turned his face away from Undyne, hoping to mask his sudden rush of excitement.

“Mm. Well, I suppose I’ll just have to make do with my current wardrobe,” Mettaton huffed, rising from the couch. “Let me know when our guests arrive.”

“Just don’t powder your nose too hard, pretty-boy. Wouldn’t want it falling off, would we?” Undyne smirked. Mettaton shot her a bemused expression before retiring to his room.

As the door shut behind him, he slid down to the floor, hands rising to his face. He felt like he could scream. “The sheer ODDS!” he thought to himself. That fateful night he had spent under the stars with that bumbling ex-sentry from Snowdin, a weeks-old memory by now, was just as vivid in his mind as it was when he lived it. He still wasn’t sure exactly why he felt such an attraction to that skeleton - perhaps because of the way he so gracefully lifted him off the ground when he fell, or maybe just the sheer association of that man with that wonderful night. Either way, Mettaton was sticking to his new philosophy of taking life as it came, and right now, he was feeling glad that Papyrus was coming.

\---

It wasn’t long before the skeletons arrived. Mettaton heard the distant knocking on the door as he ran a comb through his artificial hair. Had he been given more time to prepare, he would’ve scoured his wardrobe for a dashing, unique, and inspired look for the evening; however, under the current circumstances, he decided a simple pair of ripped jeans and tank top would suffice. One of the most interesting fashion trends among the humans, he found, was the ironic grunge look - looking like you don’t care how you look, but making your “I don’t care” look, look good! Such a trendy juxtaposition!

Applying the finishing touches to his look, he put a beanie on his head (even more irony! Doing your hair only to cover it up! What a fantastically curious idea!) and sauntered out of his room, joining the growing congregation in the living room.

He could hear the voices of his friends as he entered, Alphys chatting with Sans while Undyne gave Papyrus a noogie. Their eyes met from across the room, and Mettaton spread his arms wide, half-jogging towards the pinned skeleton as Undyne reluctantly relented her grip.

“Papyrus!” Mettaton called, closing the distance just in time for the skeleton to reciprocate the hug. 

“I’m so happy you could make it!” Mettaton said, giving him a quick squeeze in his midsection before pulling away and making air kisses on both sides of his face.

Having pulled away, he got a good look at Papyrus’s choice of clothing for the evening. Unlike that raggedy faux battle armor he had been sporting the night they were freed, he now wore a navy button-down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow with practiced precision, and a black tie in a windsor knot. His khakis were pressed and ironed, creased with care. Mettaton could swear he could see his reflection in the shine of his black dress shoes. He also couldn’t help but notice the midsection of the tie bulging out slightly, no doubt a sign that Papyrus hadn’t quite mastered the art of tying a tie, and had to stuff the tail in his shirt so it wouldn’t poke out the bottom.

Mettaton couldn’t help but glance downwards, moving a hand to the tie and giving it a playful tug.

“Haven’t quite mastered the art yet, hm?” he teased. Papyrus gave a bashful chuckle in response before clearing his throat.

“Mm, well, isn’t it a bit hot to be wearing winter clothing?” Papyrus asked, giving a small downwards tug on the front end of the beanie.

“Hmph, it’s fashion, darling. I’m making a statement. You Snowdin folk just wouldn’t understand.” Mettaton huffed, crossing his arms and turning his chin up as he looked away. He maintained his pose for just a moment before opening an eye, giving Papyrus a smirk. They both shared a laugh, Papyrus covering his mouth with a hand and Mettaton hooking a dainty finger under his nose.

“Ah but really, darling. You look fabulous!” Mettaton took a step back, crossing his arms and smiling.

“And you look good as usual! I’m glad you could make it!” Papyrus responded, stuffing a hand in his pocket and idly holding a hand over his tie’s knot.

Mettaton giggled. “Of course, darling, I live here.”

Papyrus felt warmth growing in his cheeks. “Ah, heh… I knew that! But I am still glad you did not have any other plans for the evening!”

“Mm,” Mettaton started, his smile dropping for a moment. “It is rather fortunate, considering I wasn’t informed of your arrival until the last minute.” He shot a glance at Alphys, who was in the middle of showing something to Sans on her phone.

As the conversation reached a lull, the room was wracked with the sound of a tumultuous thud from the front door. Pictures on the wall wobbled and hairline cracks formed along the ceiling as the reverberations rang out. Everyone stopped, staring wordlessly at the door before Undyne sprang into action, practically leaping to the front door in excitement.

“He made it! He freakin’ made it!” She cried as she reached for the door handle.

“Who made it--” Mettaton began before the door swung open, revealing none other than the king of all monsters himself, clad in a bright pink paisley button down and well-worn jeans. He carried half a dozen cases of hard lemonade under his arm, and used his other hand to hug Undyne as she leaped up onto him.

“Asgore, you’re just in time!” Undyne shouted, awkwardly wrapping one of her arms as much as she could around his impressive frame.

“Ha ha, yes, I tried to be ‘fashionably late’, as they call it. I was also informed that we would need to bring our own beer, so I had to make a quick stop at the supermarket.” He gave the cases a small shake.

“Perfect! Come inside, we’ll toss ‘em in the fridge,” Undyne began, ushering the king inside.

Papyrus turned to Sans, calling out to him. “Sans, I hope you remembered to bring your own drinks like I warned you!”

“Wha--” Sans started, his eyes momentarily focused on the new arrival, his cheeks flashing the faintest hint of blue before returning his attention to his brother. He opened his mittened palm, a bottle of cheap, off-brand beer materializing in his hand from his inventory.

“No worries, bro. I’ve got plenty of brewskis.”

Papyrus groaned. “Please don’t call them that. It’s bad enough you drink in the first place, much less come up with ridiculous nicknames for them.”

Mettaton chuckled, causing Papyrus to return his attention to him.

“Ah, I don’t suppose you drink,” Papyrus asked.

Mettaton shook his head. “No, dearie, I’m afraid my body doesn’t handle fluids well. And you?”

“Absolutely not! I refuse to drink any of that swill. It somehow makes my brother even lazier than usual, among the litany of other side effects it has on the mind and body.” papyrus placed a hand on his chest, looking away proudly.

Mettaton stifled another giggle. From the corner of his eye he noticed that the others had begun taking their seats by the television, Asgore reclining in a large reclining chair that was only just big enough for him while Alphys and Undyne reclined on a loveseat across from the couch, which Sans had helped himself to.

“Come, Papyrus, let’s join the others.” Mettaton motioned for him to follow, and the two made their way to the couch, Papyrus sitting next to his brother while Mettaton reclined against the other arm of the couch, crossing his legs.

“So, Undyne,” Papyrus began, “What have you been up to?”

“Ah, same ‘ol shit, just on the surface now.” Undyne took a swig from a bottle of wine she had grabbed from the kitchen. “I’m going to the police academy in a few weeks, gonna be one of the first monsters on the force. Looking forward to it!”

Undyne leaned over, putting an arm around Alphys as she distractedly nursed a bottle of saké.

“And, of course, we’re planning on tying the knot before too long, isn’t that right, Alphy?”

Alphys’s face reddened as she offered a nervous giggle and quick head shake in affirmation, followed by several deep swigs from her bottle.

“S-so, Asgore,” Alphys began, “How’s the gardening thing going?”

Asgore unbottled more lemonade, a fourth bottle cap falling to the floor by his growing collection of discarded drinks. “It’s landscaping, and it’s blossoming!”

Sans was the first to respond, chucking heartily as his face erupted in a bright blue glow. The rest of the group quickly caught on and reacted with a mixture of sighs, eye-rolls, and half-laughs. Asgore smiled proudly as he downed the rest of his drink.

“But no, it is going very well, and clients are lining up. Being able to retire from my old duties to pursue a long-time passion of mine is a welcome change of pace.”

“What got you so interested in gardening, anyway,” Undyne interjected.

Asgore’s smile fell, his face darkening as he looked down at his next drink. “I have my reasons.”

A couple seconds of awkward silence followed before he cleared his throat, his voice brightening up into its usual friendly tone.

“So, Sans and Papyrus, was it? How have your new lives treated you?”

Sans responded first, setting his drink on the arm of the couch. “Eh, same as ever. I’ve got plenty of jobs, but none of ‘em are as easy as my old sentry duties.”

“I still don’t get how you were able to man all those stations at once,” Undyne said, thrusting her bottle towards Sans. “I never saw you pass me or use the river person, but you kept bouncing back and forth between your stations. How’d you manage to do that, that shit drove me nuts!”

Sans giggled, taking another drink. “I’ve got my secrets. Now my bro here, he’s been the busiest out of all of us.” Sans gave Papyrus a nudge on the shoulder. “Ain’t that right, bro?”

Papyrus nodded. “Indeed! I’ve been quite preoccupied with assisting the human Frisk with their ambassador duties! As of last week, I am the official Monster representative!”

A murmur of compliments followed his declaration, and Papyrus beamed.

“So, what are you gonna do from here,” Undyne asked. “I thought Frisk was gonna run the show themselves, but I’m sure they appreciate the help.”

“Oh, absolutely! Right now I’m planning on introducing the humans to the finest cuisine the Underground has to offer, starting off with my signature dish, of course!”

“But--” Sans was quick to interject, “Pap won’t be makin’ the food, of course. That’s below him, so he’s just gonna teach some chefs how he likes ‘ta do it, and they’ll be serving his dishes at the next summit.”

Everyone sighed almost unanimously.

“And, last but not least,” Papyrus began, turning to Mettaton, “How has your entertainment career fared since we escaped?”

“Oh, ah…” Mettaton twirled a finger through his hair. “I’m on a bit of a hiatus at the moment. I’ve preferred to study human culture before putting out anything new--”

“What he means is,” Undyne shouted over him, “He sits around watching soap operas all day!” She laughed as Mettaton folded his arms.

“For the last time, it’s research, and besides, I could easily retire on the gold my brand brought me in the Underground. I will create when I’m inspired to do so, not because I need to.”

Papyrus put a hand on Mettaton’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Mettaton, I’m sure you’ll come up with something spectacular as always! Inspiration will strike when you least expect it!”

Mettaton felt his internal temperatures rise. A faint whine of steam emitted from his side as he looked into Papyrus’s eyes, moving a hand to his chest.

“Why thank you, dearie. Your support truly means a lot to me.”

“Why of course, I’ve always considered myself to be your biggest fan,” Papyrus beamed.

“Oh, stop it!” Mettaton teased, hugging Papyrus. After a moment of surprise, Papyrus reciprocated.

Mettaton and Papyrus remained close throughout the evening, watching as the rest of the group became increasingly intoxicated. As their alcohol levels rose, their actions and discussion topics became more erratic, and before either of them knew it, they were bearing witness to Undyne and Alphys having a sloppy make-out session on their loveseat while Asgore and Sans conversed, their words heavily slurred.

Mettaton was having fun people-watching, but as he glanced in Papyrus’s direction, he could see the uncomfortableness in his posture. He ran a hand across his back, grabbing his attention.

“Hey, if you’d like we could just… hang out in my room and let them sort themselves out.”

Papyrus felt his cheeks flush a bit. “Ah- but, surely we should make sure they don’t get themselves hurt, right? Besides, it would be rude to just enter your room-”

“Oh, Papyrus, relax! You think this is the first time they’ve been like this? They’re fine,” he said, turning himself to Papyrus, placing his other hand on his shoulder. “And besides, it’s my invitation, it would be rude for you to decline.”

Begrudgingly, Papyrus relented, and the two excused themselves right as Sans was pulling out his phone to make crank calls with Asgore.

Papyrus entered after Mettaton, closing the door behind him. He stood by the doorway, watching as Mettaton moved to turn his television on, filling the room with the sounds of American classic movies.

After settling onto his bed, he noticed Papyrus hadn’t moved.

Mettaton gently pat the mattress. “Well don’t just stand there, come here, take a seat, I insist!”

Papyrus clasped his hands together, looking away. “That’s quite alright, I’m fine standing here, honestly!”

Mettaton couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s bashfulness. Standing once more, he took the swivel chair from his computer desk and scooted it over to Papyrus.

“Would this be more suitable?”

Papyrus nodded. “Yes, thank you!”

Returning to his seat on the bed, Mettaton was content to get absorbed in the current movie while Papyrus tried his best to relax.

Minutes turned to hours as the two reclined, Papyrus becoming less tense by degrees as the hectic environment of the living room was replaced with the calm and quiet of Mettaton’s room. Once he seemed more willing to talk, Mettaton spoke up.

“So, did you mean it?” Mettaton asked, directing his attention to Papyrus.

“Mean what?”

“When you said you were my biggest fan!”

Papyrus swiveled in Mettaton’s direction. “Of course! I tuned in to your show every morning, even on reruns!”

“Ah, well I’m so glad you enjoyed the show,” Mettaton scooted across the bed, closer to where Papyrus’s chair was. “Where did you live, by the way?”

“We lived in Snowdin for as long as I can remember!”

Mettaton raised his eyebrows. “Snowdin, you say? Fascinating! You know we took some marketing data on our viewers, and we always had one viewer in Snowdin. We considered cutting the signal from going that far a couple times, but I always vouched for keeping the signal up, just for them. I’m glad to see it was appreciated,” he chuckled, laying on his stomach, resting his head in his hands.

“Really?” Papyrus couldn’t hide the expression in his face, once more turning red at the star’s flattery. “I can’t thank you enough, you certainly made my days a lot less boring!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit on the bed, darling? It’s much more comfortable.” Mettaton gave the bed a quick pat once more.

“Ahh…” Papyrus croaked, warring internally as his eyes went back and forth between the television and the bed. “I… Suppose it wouldn’t hurt. It would be rude to reject an invitation, after all.”

Mettaton smiled, sitting up once more. Papyrus took a seat by Mettaton, keeping a respectful distance of a few inches and his hands firmly planted on his lap. They focused their attention on the movie once more, Mettaton only daring to speak to him once again when the show cut to a commercial break.

“I truly appreciate the support you gave me out there,” Mettaton began, looking down at his lap. “Underground, I was used to fan mail, phone calls, all kind of attention! But, alas, once everyone went to the surface, it seems that everyone forgot about me.”

Papyrus balked. “On the contrary, I’m sure everyone remembers your work! They’re all eagerly awaiting your next début as much as I am, and we’ll be right there to support you when you do decide to go public once more!”

Mettaton rested his head against Papyrus’s shoulder, sighing. “You’re too kind, Papyrus.”

Papyrus put his arm around Mettaton, the two resting against each other. Growing comfortable in their positions, sleep began to creep at the edge of their eyes, and they nearly drifted off in their embrace, when a putrid stench began to waft into the room, hitting them at the same time.

Papyrus gagged, covering his nose hole with his free hand. Mettaton groaned, standing up at length and stretching.

“They didn’t make it to the restroom,” Mettaton complained, Papyrus standing up as he made his way to his door.

As the door swung open, the smell only worsened, Papyrus exerting great resolve to keep his composure. Mettaton, inured to the horrors of vomit, casually made his way to the kitchen to collect the cleaning supplies.

Papyrus, taking notice of the party they had left behind, saw a ghastly site. Undyne was passed out on the sofa, Alphys snoring softly on top of her. Several bottles, a couple of which had spilled onto the carpet, were sat around them. A trashcan rested by Undyne, one of the sources of the stench, and by Papyrus’s estimate, recently used. A similar trashcan rested by Asgore’s chair, where he was reclining, asleep. Sans had somehow managed to move himself onto Asgore’s chest and was sprawled out there, muttering in his sleep as he ruffled his fingers across Asgore’s chest. Papyrus averted his eyes, feeling as if he were intruding. As he looked away, Mettaton emerged, dutifully collecting the trash into a separate bin and spraying carpet cleaner on the stains before taking the used trash cans’ bags out.

“Papyrus, could you please get the door for me?”

Papyrus moved to the door, opening it up as Mettaton slid past, throwing the bags in the larger can outside.

Mettaton re-entered the home, not skipping a beat as he moved to scrub the stains from the floor.

Papyrus was feeling uncharacteristically superfluous watching Mettaton work at such a mechanical pace. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Papyrus petitioned.

“There’s some blankets and pillows in the hall closet. They’ll appreciate it if you tuck them into their beds, as it were,” Mettaton lifted the stain as best he could and collected the last of the trash as he stood. “I’m going to go clean myself up.”

Papyrus clambered through the closet, finding two pillows and blankets, emerging to drape them over his passed-out friends. By the time he had slipped pillows under their heads and draped the blankets over them, Mettaton entered the living room once more, drying his hands with a fresh towel.

“Thanks, darling,” Mettaton said with a sigh. “I got so caught up in our reverie I forgot about the clean-up.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Papyrus said, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. “Honestly, Sans usually keeps this kind of behavior at Grillby’s, but it never hurts to learn something new.”

“Mm, and maybe one day they will learn to be responsible,” Mettaton quipped with a yawn. “Well, it seems you’re stuck here for the night. I apologize but we don’t have a spare room.”

“That’s alright,” Papyrus said, already taking a seat on the now-unoccupied couch. “I can sleep out here!”

“Oh, Papyrus, honey, no, you need to sleep in an actual bed,” Mettaton protested. “Come on, you can have mine.”

“But where will you sleep?”

Mettaton placed a coy hand over his mouth. “Well, I was hoping we could share, if you didn’t mind.”

Papyrus chuckled. “Is that an invitation?”

“Well, I suppose it is,” Mettaton said, walking up to Papyrus and placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Well then, how could I refuse?”

**Author's Note:**

> Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas in July, Iqom! It was a fantastic pleasure getting to be your Santa for this event, and I hope you can put up with my characterization of Mettaton - I was actually a little intimidated because up until now I have literally never written Mettaton before, but it was fun to do regardless! It was definitely a learning experience and I feel like I came out of this with a deeper appreciation for Papyton than I had when I went into this, so thank you for broadening my horizons!


End file.
